


Idyll Interrupted

by kiss_me_cassie



Series: Idyllic [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Post-Credits Scene, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Clint Barton's Farm, Established Relationship, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war was fought, sides drawn and erased. So where do most of our heroes wind up when all is said and done? The farm, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idyll Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help it. Summer Idyll cried out for an epilogue after I saw Civil War. I was also fueled in part by tumblr posts on [Enigma731](http://archiveofourown.org/users/enigma731/pseuds/enigma731)'s dash about Nat being the one to call Clint out of retirement to help Wanda. Tweaked a bit, because it's a slightly different 'verse, but... spoilers ahoy!

Steve was rolling up the blueprints for the Raft when Sharon declared, "We're going with you."

"No," Steve said. "I got them into this, it's my responsibility to get them out."

"You," he said, pointing at Sharon, "are a neutral third party as far as anyone is concerned. You're the liaison to both teams. We can't have you getting caught up in the middle."

"And you," he said, pointing at Natasha, "are publicly in agreement with the Accords. If they knew you were instrumental in freeing Wanda from the compound or helping in any way… No. I can't risk having you imprisoned, too."

"You can't do it alone."

"And I won't. I'll have Bucky with me. We can do it."

"We can get the system down quicker than you can, provide back up, neutralize guards." When Steve didn't budge, Natasha tried appealing to his emotional side. "It's Clint, Steve. _Clint_ "

He shook his head. "Another reason you're not going."

"Steve."

"I know," he said, his voice softening. "I do. You know I do. But this time, you gotta sit it out."

\-----

The waiting was driving her crazy.

She knew it was the smart thing to do. As far as Ross or anyone else knew, she _was_ on the side of the Accord. And to date, she'd done nothing wrong, or at least nothing they knew about and could hold against her. Her record was clean.

Realistically, she knew she needed to keep it that way, to protect the others as best she could. But sitting here at the farm waiting for Steve to bring them home went against everything she was. She should have been at the Raft with him.

She'd considered it. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd disobeyed orders to do what she knew needed doing. But she also realized that Steve was right this time. She was blinded by her guilt at getting Clint involved and her need to have him home safe. She was compromised. She needed to sit this one out. She needed to wait.

She really sucked at waiting.

She'd stocked the kitchen as best she could -- and seriously, without Clint's guidance on what was needed, they were going to wind up eating a lot of yogurt and cereal in the coming days - gotten the other bedrooms ready for whoever was going to need a safe house to crash at, and spent days peeling the wallpaper from the master bedroom walls, all in a quest to keep herself busy. 

She'd even retrieved Lucky from the neighbor's. The poor dog wasn't any better at waiting than she was, and he was either going to drown her in slobbery affection or die of longing for Clint until he came home.

And just when she thought they'd both go insane, she got the call from Wakanda. They were on their way home. 

She didn't care if it was the biggest cliche in the world, as soon as she heard the jet, she headed out of the house at a full run until she could throw herself into Clint's arms. He caught her and held her tight, the dog dancing around them, his barks drowning out the sound of the engines winding down.

"Tasha…" he breathed, taking her face in his hands and kissing her deeply regardless of the group gathered behind him.

"Guess this means I didn't hit you too hard?" she asked.

He shook his head and kissed her again, lighter this time. "Nah."

"I'll have to work on that then," she joked.

He smiled and looped his arm around her shoulders. "Maybe. How about we just settle for not fighting against each other anymore?"

"Sounds like a plan," she said, leaning into him.

"That's it?" Scott asked. "She fucking _punched_ him! He shot arrows at her! How can they just --"

"Shut up, Lang," Sam said. "Let them have their moment."

Wanda approached them hesitantly, and inclined her head towards Nat. "Natasha."

She eyed the girl with compassion. "Wanda. Suppose I should thank you for not throwing me too hard."

"Clint was pulling his punches. It needed doing. But I may have pulled a few of my own," she added with a small smile. 

Natasha smiled back. 

"Come inside," she offered, gesturing towards Wanda and then the group of men behind her. They followed her into the house, Lucky trailing after them, his tongue lolling happily.

The rest of the afternoon and evening was a flurry of activity, getting everyone fed and settled, then convening in the kitchen to discuss their plan of action regarding their status as international criminals according to the Accords. 

By the end of the night -- after they'd said their goodbyes to Steve and his band of merry men and their goodnights to Wanda, who was staying at the farm with them -- Natasha was exhausted. She followed Clint up the stairs to their bedroom, thankful to finally have some time alone with him.

"I like what you did with the walls," Clint commented dryly, when he finally got a good look at the hatchet job she'd done on the wallpaper.

She shrugged. "I got antsy. I'm good at action, not so good at staying put and letting others do all the work. Besides, those flowers were hideous."

"They were," he said, collapsing down on to the bed. "Christ. I'm sorry."

"For what?" she said, sitting beside him. "If I hadn't sided with Tony and signed the Accord, or asked you to help get Wanda out of the compound, things might have been different. I had far more to do with this disaster than you did."

"But I'm the one who brought them all here, the one place I promised you would always be just ours, that would always be safe."

"It's still safe," she said

"But will it stay that way? God only knows if Steve's going to need a place to land after he and the rest of those guys are done doing their thing. Or if Ross figures out Wanda and I are here."

"So?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "How can you be so accepting of this?"

"I had a good teacher. One who showed me what it means to protect others." She turned his face and kissed him softly. "Besides, Wanda is family. So's Steve. They deserve a safe place, too."

He pulled her close and inhaled the familiar scent of her. "Family. Is that what we all are?"

"Yes."

"Even Stark?" he asked, the bitterness in his voice hard to miss.

"Even Stark," she said firmly. "Even if he is the pain in the ass older brother who never sees eye to eye with the rest of the family and starts all the fights."

He barked out a laugh. "Got it all figured out, huh?"

"Not quite, but I'm getting there. Like I said, I had a good teacher. Learned a lot from Steve," she deadpanned.

He snorted a laugh against her neck. "Steve, huh?"

"Well, T'Challa too."

"Good to know where I stand. Right below Captain America and a prince."

"King."

"Right. King." He sighed and shifted away from her to start getting ready for bed. "What a fucking mess."

"We'll get through it," she assured him, pulling off clothes until she was down to just a tank top and underwear.

"Oh yeah? How? I'm wanted in one hundred odd countries and you…" He sighed again.

"We'll get through it," she repeated, turning down the blankets on the bed and climbing in. "You'll lay low, we'll figure out Ross's end game, then formulate a plan. Same as always."

He laid down and gathered her close. "You realize that's a lot of time with you on your own, no one you can trust at your six?"

She nodded. "I can handle myself. And if things get really tough, I'll call on T'Challa and his team for assistance. Won't be the same as working with you, but…" She shrugged. "I can make it work."

"Yeah." He kissed her forehead, then yawned broadly. "Fuck this day. Fuck _this week_. I'm even too tired for sex."

She chuckled and snuggled in closer to him. "At least we know the morning sex will be fabulous."

When there was a soft knock at the door a few moments later, both of them jumped before remembering they had a house guest.

"Yeah?" Clint called.

Wanda peeked her head in. "Um, guys? I know I'm a full grown adult, but… when I was a child, my mother used to let Pietro and I into her bed when we had nightmares."

Clint's brows shot up. "Uh, not that I don't like you and all and want to help out, but… Nat?"

"Don't look at me," she grumbled. "I have no experience with this kind of thing. Raised by the Red Room, remember?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Wanda interrupted, blushing a little. "I just meant, could we maybe talk a little bit? I… am finding it hard to adjust to being here."

"Uh, sure," Clint said, looking sideways at Natasha. "Maybe we could go downstairs?"

"Tea," Natasha pronounced, throwing off the blankets and getting out of bed. "Chamomile ok?"

Wanda nodded. "Chamomile is perfect."

She shucked on a robe. "Good. 'Cause that and yogurt are the only things I can predictably make on my own. Hey, did I ever tell you about how badly I took to farm life when Clint first brought me here..."


End file.
